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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26987263">McDonald's</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nietzscheantrout/pseuds/nietzscheantrout'>nietzscheantrout</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>I Would Have Liked to Show You Georgia [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drunk Hannibal Lecter, Drunk Will Graham, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Fluff, Guy Fieri - Freeform - Freeform, Hannibal Lecter Eats McDonald's, I Looked Up At The Night Sky There, I Love You, Love Confessions, M/M, McDonald's, Motel room, Road Trips</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:01:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,651</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26987263</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nietzscheantrout/pseuds/nietzscheantrout</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tired and hungry, the men stopped at a motel room. A bottle of whiskey and some McDonald's later, Will came to a realisation that had never occurred to him before.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham &amp; Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>I Would Have Liked to Show You Georgia [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967419</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>155</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>McDonald's</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/agarina_amigara/gifts">agarina_amigara</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks to Chel for sending me a message today saying "there is no deserving! there is only wanting, taking, and having". He continues to be an inspiration &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They'd been driving for three hours at that point. Every tree, every turn, every road looked identical, but Will was mostly entranced by the napping man in his backseat. He'd expected his unusually stern features to mellow out in slumber and yet, he lay there with the same exact expression he had on his face at all times. It was endearing and terrifying at the same time.</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal begged him not to leave Georgia, so they instead decided to drive city to city, breathing in the warm air and gazing up at the stars. They couldn't stay in one place for too long. The last person that had recognised them didn't make it and they were at risk of leaving a predictable trail of bodies behind, though killing them never got less fun. Will could still smell the copper on his fingers no matter how many times he washed them.</span><br/>
<br/>
<span>Once they'd arrived, Will pulled a sleepy Hannibal into the room of a motel, noticing his half-lidded eyes and the upturned corners of his lips. He'd asked the woman at the front desk for a single room, letting her engage in a stare-off before she realised what he was saying. Will let her make whatever assumptions she wanted. <br/>
<br/>
Hannibal plopped onto the comfortable bed, leaning against the headboard and quietly waking up, batting his eyelashes and looking around with more sense in his gaze now. “Are you hungry?” Will sat beside him, taking the man’s hand and squeezing it. He had a pretty sleepless night, and was only now starting to stir. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Yes,” he said, scrunching his nose slightly as he considered what their most likely options would be in an area this rural. Gas station hot dogs, fast food, packaged snacks…</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>"It's not all bad. Maybe this will help you get your appetite back." With ease, Will picked up his bag and pulled out a large bottle of whiskey. One that he decided to stash away and take with him. Hannibal raised an amused eyebrow, sitting up and reaching for the bottle. “I haven’t had hard liquor in years.” Will pondered that statement and realised there’d be no reason to consume alcohol in jail.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I’ve never seen you drunk,” Will mused as he poured a respectable serving of alcohol, handing it over to Hannibal. “Can’t wait for this to loosen your lips a bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal obliged happily, taking a few sips and leaning back in the bed. Will poured himself some as well, throwing his shoes off and situating himself next to his partner. “Cuore mio…” Hannibal fawned over him, hand slipping into his hair. He played with it a bit more, humming a tune under his breath. Will shifted in excitement, leaning into the touches. The way unfamiliar words left Hannibal's lips always left him breathless, spending his late nights in frantic Googling sessions when Hannibal was asleep. It was almost always some variation of "lover" or "heart". </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lecter wouldn’t admit it, but even the most ornate chapels in Florence didn’t come close to the feeling in his chest when Will opened the door of yet another cabin with creaky floorboards. The interior always smelled like soil and sweat, the kitchens were too small, and there was absolutely no closet space. He wouldn’t have it any other way. He had fallen in love with the peach state. He had fallen in love with Will. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took another sip of his drink, letting it burn on its way down his throat. “I never want to leave Georgia,” he stated, pressing a kiss to Will’s temple. In his mind, Georgia wasn't only a location, but a state of being. An existence where the two of them had let their guards down and dove headfirst into whatever feeling raced in their hearts.  </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Will’s heart fluttered. Respectable socialite Dr. Lecter had fallen in love with arid landscapes and calloused hands. He was beautiful in this moment, hair falling over his eyes and face warm from the alcohol. “You want to watch some TV?” he asked, unsure how to respond to Hannibal's lovesick musings. If Will could have his way, they'd stay here for eternity. Just them, the trees, and a few dogs. Maybe for than a few. Will reached over him to grab a remote, smirking at the fact that Hannibal hitched a breath. He clicked it on and relaxed at the sight of Food Network, contentedly nursing his drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he knew it, Hannibal was done with his first and was pouring himself a second. “Come on,” Will murmured, grabbing their drinks and placing them on the nightstand. He leaned in, placing an open mouthed kiss to his jaw. Once they broke the ice, Will could practically never get his hands off of him. They’d be brushing their hands against each others, stealing quiet kisses, curling up in bed like two lovesick idiots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s hands trailed down Will’s chest, pulling him into a soft, languid kiss. They moved lazily against each other, mouths forming into smiles unconsciously. “I love you,” Will whispered, leaning into Hannibal’s soft hands, which were now cupping his cheeks. His eyes flooded with complete adoration, trailing over every single centimetre of Will’s face. “I think I may be getting drunk,” Lecter murmured, grabbing his drink and finishing it off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was already starting to lose motor function, letting it kick in as they continued to make out. Will straddled him, greedy mouth sucking on his bottom lip. “You taste like booze,” he couldn’t help but smile again, pulling away to nuzzle their noses together. “Come on, let’s get some food.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The older man groaned, getting up from the bed and pulling Will into another smooch. “Must you torture me with more bland food?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Bland, my ass. Have you ever had a chicken nugget?” He pictured it, well-groomed fingernails picking up the crispy abominations. Hannibal never skipped out on a manicure, often spending upwards of an hour fixing his cuticles, trimming them down, and coating his nails in a clear polish, all while Will sat in his lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chicken nuggets? God forbid. Though in my university days in Paris I did spend a lot of my time surviving off of eggs and toast.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will laughed, shaking his head and taking him downstairs. The beauty of dark nights on rural roads meant that their affectionate demeanours were no spectacle. As if a portion of Georgia was cut off specifically just for them. Hannibal looked up at the stars, going unusually quiet and stopping them both. “Look up,” he whispered, inspecting the array of lights in the sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, when you were away…” Will began, entranced by the sight. “I looked up at the night sky, Orion above the horizon. I wondered if you could see it too. I wondered if our stars were the same,” he let out, hand entwining with Hannibal’s.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Some of our stars will always be the same. You’ve entered into the foyer of my mind and settled in the halls of my beginnings.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Your beginnings? I’ve only known you for five years,” Will caught his gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is a beginning of its own, Will. Don’t you think? Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham are dead, but we persevere,” he pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I no longer require the vastness of a palace in my mind. It’s now the size of a small cabin in a Georgian summer.” The silent road gave Will nothing else to focus his attention on, encapsulated by Hannibal’s romantic musings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t rebuild your palace. It needs space for-” he couldn’t finish, upset that even his tipsy mind drifted to Abigail. He sighed into Hannibal’s chest, pulling him into an embrace. There they stood, outside a dingy motel, about 200 metres from a McDonald’s just down the road. “It needs space for her,” Will finally finished, closing his eyes. He snapped back to reality when Hannibal tried to steady himself, realising that the whiskey didn’t do any favours for his balance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t look like you’re gonna make it there. Let’s get you back in the room. I’ll grab it for the both of us.”</span>
</p><p>---</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal settled in the bed, watching as Will left and looking up at the questionably entertaining show in front of him. He didn’t mind, though, the alcohol was quite enough to provide excitement. He sipped on his third, then fourth drink, chuckling under his breath as the hiccups made a home in his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will stood at the counter, slightly dazed but focusing his attention on the menu items. He settled on chicken nuggets, big macs, fries, and Coca-Cola. There was a laugh building up in his chest at the thought of Hannibal eating any of this, heading back to the motel with a little pep in his step. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hannibal,” he said in a singsong voice, setting all the bags down on the tiny table, looking up to see his partner completely out of his mind. Hannibal was hiccupping and swearing at Guy’s Grocery Games on the screen, mumbling something under his breath about the beurre blanc splitting. “Too much white wine vinegar,” he grumbled, sitting up when he noticed Will’s presence. His arms reached out involuntarily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will grabbed some fries from the bag, popping one in his mouth and extending a cluster of them to Hannibal. The man made a frustrated noise, leaning in close and taking a bite of them. He chewed slowly, methodically, quietly, trying to analyse the flavour. “Hmm,” he thought for a moment, meeting Will’s eyes. “It isn’t the worst thing I’ve eaten,” he said politely. “Although.. I can think of a few other things I’d like in my mouth,” he pulled on Will.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man didn’t protest, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I'm hungry,” he said, though he didn’t do anything about it for that moment, far too aware of Hannibal's hands on his hips. Will pulled off reluctantly and reached for the box of chicken nuggets, opening it up and popping one in his mouth, chewing. He took another one, twiddling it between his fingers, before bringing it up to Hannibal’s lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Doctor raised an eyebrow, shaking his head after a moment. “Come on, dear. Here comes the airplane,” he cooed teasingly, watching Hannibal open his mouth up with a near-silent grumble. His eyebrows immediately furrowed when he tasted the ‘chicken’, tempted to spit it out. Will put a hand on his chin, laughing at the facial expressions he was making. “What in the world is in that?” Hannibal shook his head, swallowing it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely no clue. That’s the beauty of it, Hannibal. You just have to let go and trust that it’s not poisoned,” Will finished off the remainder of the nugget that he extended to Hannibal, sitting in his lap comfortably. “Besides, you haven’t eaten hot food in a few days, if not more. I think you should at least try and enjoy it.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“This… thing’s connection to food is tenuous at best, and non existent in reality. It’s vile, Will.”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, then, suit yourself,” Will climbed off, much to Hannibal’s frustration, and went to take a big bite out of a Big Mac. He extended it once more, watching Hannibal’s eyes roll in frustration as he took a bite, furrowing his eyebrows for a moment. Lecter’s eyes twinkled, trying to formulate a reaction. The thin patties, American cheese, crunchy lettuce, strange sauce… something about the combination set his taste buds aflame. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but this thing was delicious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal reached forward and grabbed the remainder of the burger, devouring it at breakneck speed. Will watched in amusement, watching burger sauce drip from the corner of his lips. “My, my, Dr. Lecter. You’re making an absolute mess,” he chuckled, pulling a tissue from his pocket and clearing his face. Hannibal hiccuped, joining him in the laughter. His head felt light and woozy, he was practically floating on air, devouring the world’s greasiest and least appetising burger. Will pulled out his camera, snapping a quick photo before Hannibal noticed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d decided to acquire a small polaroid camera, quietly collecting photo after photo in his wallet. It was now full of pictures. Hannibal passed out in the car on their first night after the fall, Hannibal drinking beer behind a gas station, Hannibal petting an alley cat, Hannibal surrounded by peach trees. Obviously he hadn’t shown them to anyone yet, and in a way it was exciting to have them as a little secret. Most nights, Hannibal would be out like a light as soon as he decided he wanted to sleep, and Will would reach into his bag and pause at every picture. He was the only person in the word who got to see Hannibal like this, and it made his heart soar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s on your mind?” Hannibal looked up, having sobered up a tiny bit. He reached forward, taking Will’s hand and looking him in the eyes. Graham noticed his eyes crossing every so slightly, leaning forward and kissing the bridge of his nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You,” he answered truthfully, the booze doing its job to lower his walls. “I can’t believe you’re sitting here and eating McDonald’s in bed. Our bed. In a motel room. In Georgia.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Where did you imagine we would be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. Somewhere in Paris, sipping wine and discussing Greek literature,” he hummed, properly straddling Hannibal now and fixing his hair. He pushed it back, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Or maybe in Cuba. By the beach.” He leaned in closer, practically resting against Hannibal’s body. “I would’ve never imagined you in a place like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is exactly how I imagined you,” Hannibal replied, holding him close. “Tired and messy and awake late at night. In my arms,” he was still hiccuping, lips spread into an uncharacteristically wide smile. “And I’d love you. Quietly and loudly. While I’m still and as I’m moving,” he hid his face in the crook of Will’s neck. “And you’d love me back,” he squeezed him tight. “And I’d never get your smell off of my skin.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Will paused, unsure why his eyes were filling with tears. The gentleness of the moment was overwhelming. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been held like this. The last time anyone looked at him and decided that if the Earth swallowed the entire city whole, they’d fall into the pit in each other’s arms. Droplets streamed down his cheeks, body shivering a little as he shook his head. “You’re drunk, Hannibal.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I may be drunk, but what I’m saying is true,” he sat up, almost offended. His best attempt at looking sober wasn’t very convincing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hannibal, I’m-”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Will’s voice was silenced by a kiss. Hannibal was surprised with his own conviction. He didn’t want any more elongated conversations, or declarations of love. He didn’t have enough rationality. And definitely nowhere near enough sobriety.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will pulled away, feeling a twinge of anxiety in his chest. Throughout his life, he’d been overwhelmed with a feeling of not deserving anything. He didn’t deserve his friends, fluked his way to his jobs, pretended through all of his relationships… He was nothing but a glorified actor with a bad wardrobe department. At this moment, however, the concept of deserving didn’t exist. There was only giving and taking, and loving, and Will was doing all of those at once. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal inspected Will’s face, sighing pleasantly. “Pass me another chicken nugget, will you?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The man practically exploded in laughter, not being able to contain it any longer. He giggled like a madman, handing over the rest of the McDonald’s bag and resting on Hannibal’s chest. His drunken frenzy kicked in and so did a case of the munchies, the sounds of him chewing and swallowing echoing throughout the room. Will tuned into the television again.</span>
  <span></span><br/>

  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>For the first time in his life, Will found comfort in silence. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi all!</p><p>I have been in a fluffy mood lately! Hopefully you have too.</p><p>Love you all &lt;3</p><p>- Newt xxx</p></blockquote></div></div>
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